


15x19 Rewrite (Inherent the Earth) because it flipping needs it

by 4million_HungryBears



Series: Making the Supernatural Finales better [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x19, 15x20, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Related, Chuck Shurley is God, Chuck is an asshole, Ending Fix, F/M, Fix-It, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Temporary Character Death, The Empty (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27770872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4million_HungryBears/pseuds/4million_HungryBears
Summary: Sam and Dean and Jack try and figure out a way to stop Chuck(god) and bring back everyone that got snapped. Basically the plot of Supernatural episode "inherit the earth" but written better.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Michael/Adam Milligan
Series: Making the Supernatural Finales better [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080104
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	15x19 Rewrite (Inherent the Earth) because it flipping needs it

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I went through the entire 15x19 Supernatural ep, and rewrote all of it. Took out a few unnecessary plot points, kept some others. There are a few scenes from the actual ep, but enough of it has been changed to be considered, in my opinion, better. I had actually originally written this as a script, but I figured it would be easier for ya'll to read it like this. There will be a 15x20 follow-up.

~Inherit the Earth~

Thick black tar oozes around Dean’s feet. He steps forward, the sludge slowly rising around his legs, pushing against him, holding him in place. He was so close, if only he could just reach a little further. 

A bloody hand reached towards him from out of the heavy black ooze. It struggled to pull the rest of itself out, but it was losing, sinking back into the black. 

“JUST HOLD ON!” The pitch black was up to Dean’s chest now. “I’M ALMOST THERE, HOLD ON!” 

Dean tried to grab the hand, to pull him out, he couldn’t lose him. Not again. Not again. 

The bloody hand reached forward desperately, slipping on Dean’s arm and grabbing his coat before it lost its grip. 

“NO!” Dean frantically fumbled for the hand. “NO PLEASE.” 

The hand sank below the darkness, gone. Dean reached into the black, miserably grabbing at nothing. 

“No, NO! CAS!!” 

—

Dean awoke, shaking, his heart trying to pound out of his chest as he took in quick uneven breaths. He shuddered, leaning his head into his hands. 

Dean sat up in his bed. He groaned as a headache started to settle in, but that didn’t stop him from reaching over and grabbing a half-empty bottle of whiskey, downing a large swig. He looked forward, his eyes staring at nothing, his whole body feeling tired and dead. 

—[4 days earlier]—

“DEAN!” Sam’s footsteps pounded down the halls of the bunker, getting closer with each step. He ran to the dungeon, flinging the door open. 

Dean sat there, phone at his feet, staring numbly at the floor. 

“Dean! Why the hell didn’t you answer my calls? I thought you were dead!” Sam yelled. It had been just like Eileen. Sam hadn’t known what to think and for all he knew Dean might have been gone just like the rest of them. 

But Dean didn’t respond, he barely even registered that Sam was there. His breathing hiccuped and his face was red and swollen, like he’d been crying for a long time. 

“Dean,” Sam started softly, everything pointing to something being very wrong. “What happened?” 

——

Bottle of whiskey in hand, Dean got up from his bed. He steadied himself against the wall of his room, making his way over to his dresser. 

He picked up his bathrobe from where it had been thrown the previous night and slung it over his shoulders. Reaching his dresser he opened the drawer and pulled out a pair of socks, intending to put them on. 

He took a large sip from the whiskey bottle, wiping his mouth afterwards, and leaning against the dresser. 

——

Sam sat next to Dean against the wall. 

“We didn’t get to Billie in time did we?” Sam said quietly. He didn’t expect to get an answer but Dean sighed, leaning his head back against the bricks behind him. 

“It wasn’t Billie. It was Chuck.” He spoke, quietly, tone thick with emotion. 

Sam furrowed his brow in confusion, the information new to him.

“It was all Chuck,” Dean continued. “He started ganking everybody and... Sam, it was all my fault…” His voice broke, and he hid his face in his hands. 

“Dean, Chuck would’ve done this anyway. It's not your-” 

“CAS, SAM!” Dean burst out.

Sam sat stunned, the sudden absence of Castiel obvious and apparent. Sam’s eyes drifted to Dean’s shoulder, gaze lingering on the new bloody handprint on his coat. 

"I was so stupid. Death, I cut her, she would have died on her own, he could've been fine, he wouldn't have had to... he wouldn't have... he didn't need to die!! He would still be... he... he..." Dean broke, his breathing dissolving into heavy panicky sobs, and tears started to stream down his face. 

Sam leaned forward, holding Dean as he shook with grief. 

——

Dean ran cold water over his face. He stood in front of the sink, gripping its sides, his head down. 

Dean looked up into the mirror ahead of him.

—— 

"He would still be alive if it weren't for me!" Dean yelled in an anguished frustrated sob.  
_____

Dean closed his eyes.

— (Roll opening credits)—

The Earth was empty. 

Crashed cars littered the streets when drivers had suddenly disappeared from existence. 

The towns were empty.

The bars and restaurants were empty. 

Everywhere was empty except for, it seems, one place in Lebanon, Kansas. 

—

Dean strolled in the main room of the bunker, headache still strong, the now empty bottle of whiskey still in his hand. He looked across the room and his eyes landed on the far table.

There lay Sam, head down, pressed against the table, books in disheveled stacks around him. 

“Hey,” He came up slowly behind Sam and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Sam, come on buddy, wake up.” 

Sam groaned. He lifted his head slightly before sitting up and leaning on his elbow. There were deep circles under his eyes as he looked up at Dean. 

“So what,” Dean gestured to all the books around them, and sat across the table from Sam. “Did you happen to find anything?” 

Sam sighed. 

“Nothing. Nothing, nada, zip on how to bring everyone back from a freaking God apocalypse.” He looked down at the book before him, and closed it with a thud.

Dean twirled the empty whiskey bottle in his hands. “Any idea if there’s anybody in heaven or hell?” 

“No clue. Heaven, if there’s anybody in it, they aren’t answering. As for hell, the spell to get in isn’t working, so either hell is gone, they closed up shop, or Chuck is screwing us over, which honestly, I wouldn’t put past him.” 

Sam ran his hands over his face and through his hair, clear exhaustion in his shoulders.

“Dean, what do we do? I’m really trying but I can’t find us any options.” 

Dean felt his stomach twist up in knots. There really were no other options. 

“We admit defeat? We go to Chuck, do whatever he wants so he brings everyone back?” 

“I hate that, Dean.” 

“I know, but what else do we have? I think we’ve officially lost, Sammy.” 

Sam frowned but he nodded. No other choice. 

“How's Jack doing?” Dean asked. 

Sam shook his head. “Not great. I think he blames himself for what happened, and Cas being… gone really hit him hard.” 

Dean shrank in his seat. “Thanks for telling him.” Dean whispered. Sam looked at him. 

“I’m still kinda confused. What exactly happened, Dean?”

Dean scowled. “I already told you. A while back Cas made a deal with the empty, and when Billie was after me, Cas summoned the empty so it took her… and it took him too. He saved me.” 

“Yeah I get that. But you said in his deal the empty could only be summoned when he was really happy for once, and Billie was literally about to kill you. So what the hell made him happy?” 

Dean tensed, avoiding Sam’s eyes. 

“Dean?” 

“I…. He… hh.” The words were stuck in Dean’s throat. He kept opening his mouth, then closing it again, faltering, flailing for the right thing to say, terrified of admitting it was real. 

Dean got up from his chair. 

“We should go try and find Chuck.” He said over his shoulder, before leaving the room. Sam stared after him, concern for his brother written all over his face. 

—

“Jack?” Dean knocked on the bedroom door. No one came, but Dean could hear sniffling from inside the room. 

“Jack, we're gonna try and talk to Chuck.” The sniffling stopped. He was listening. 

“Look, in case we don’t make it back… I just want you to know… Jack, you were always family. I know I was a real asshole to you and I don’t think just apologizing can really make up for all of it, but, Me and Sam, we love you okay. We will always love you.” 

Dean shuffled his feet outside the door.

“So… take care of the bunker while we’re gone okay?” He turned to go, and made it halfway down the hall when he heard the creak of Jack’s door open. 

Jack stood in the doorway, his eyes red and streaked with tears. He stared at Dean, before running at him and wrapping his arms around his middle. 

Dean stood, a little stunned, but hugged Jack’s shoulders just as tightly. 

“Come back, okay?” Jack said into Dean’s shoulder. Dean smiled. 

“We’ll do our best.” 

He eventually let go of Jack, turning down the hall and leaving with Sam out of the bunker. 

—

Sam and Dean stood by the Impala. It was night around them, and the large, bright city around them was completely silent, adding new weight to the loss of every single human on earth. 

“He better show up.” Dean grumbled, shivering slightly in the chilly air. 

“Hey guys!” Both Sam and Dean tensed, and turned to see him, Chuck, standing there with a large, overly confident grin plastered on his face. “Enjoying a little ‘Alone time’?” 

Chuck smiled at his own joke. Dean’s lip twitched. Everything about this dude was really starting to tick him off. But he buried his feelings, knowing exactly what they had to do. 

“Alright Chuck. You win.” 

“Well sure.” Chuck shrugged. “I always do. Me being me.” He stepped closer. “So is this it or…?” 

“We’ll give you what you want.” Sam started.

“Thats right.” Dean stepped forward, continuing Sam's speech. “The whole Cain and Abel thing. Us dead, whatever. Sam kills me, I kill Sam, we kill each other, but first you gotta put everything back the way it was.” 

Chuck smiled that smug smile of his. 

“The people, the birds, Cas,” Dean growled. “You gotta bring him back.”

Chuck looked between them. 

“We’re surrendering.” Sam gave a half-smile before it turned into a grimace. “We’re giving up.” 

They stood in silence. Chuck raised his brows, looking up at the sky as though considering. 

“Yeah, no…” Chuck grinned at the brothers. “I appreciate the white flag and all but, too little too late. I’m kinda enjoying this story now.” 

“You can’t!” There was desperation in Dean’s voice. Desperate terror on both the brothers’ faces. This is what he wanted, how could Chuck do this?? 

“Ah, no, see, I’m the almighty.” He said, confident and assured in his holiness. “I really can.” 

Sam and Dean stood there, stunned. 

“I mean picture it!” Chuck began to say. “The two of you, your little lap dog Jack,” Dean clenched his fist. 

“Rotting on a lifeless planet, knowing it's this way because you wouldn’t take a knee.” Chuck spat at them. “Eternal shame, suffering, and loneliness. Woo, that's deep. That's sophisticated.”

Dean glared daggers at Chuck. How could he do this?! 

“That’s a page turner.” Chuck gave them one last smile.

Then he was gone. Sam and Dean looked around in utter shock, the horror dawning on them that they were truly and forever, alone. 

———

It was slow. Everything seemed slow. It might have been a week at most, but it felt like the days went on forever, the hours ticking by at a snail's pace. 

But what else could they do? No monsters to hunt. No people to save. They couldn’t even go out and get that apple pie life they always dreamed of. 

There was nothing. 

Jack lay on his bed, making no movements to go anywhere. 

He didn’t notice as the small potted plant sitting by his bedside suddenly dwindled and died, turning brown in a matter of seconds. 

Sam walked into the bunker library, having done nothing but sit in his room for two whole days. Not a lot else to do anyways. 

He sighed, and went to take a seat at a table, when he heard a slight whimpering from across the room. 

He looked out, but didn’t see anything… at first. 

Then, on the far end of the table, a rather notable stack of bottles rested. Sam circled around the table and saw Dean trembling on the floor. 

“Dean!” He called, making his way over to his brother’s side. “Hey, wake up!” 

He shook Dean lightly, Dean still quivering and gasping for breaths before he sat up in a set of quick, panicky motions. 

By the look on Dean’s face, he immediately regretted sitting up so fast. He pressed a hand to his forehead, no doubt a headache coming on strong. 

“You ok?” Sam asked, clearly reading that his brother was not ok, but he asked nonetheless. 

“Uggh,” Dean groaned. “I feel… terrific. Absolutely terrific.” 

There were bottles littered about him, most of them empty. Dean grabbed the neck of one bottle, only a few sips left in the bottom. Sam frowned as he lifted the bottle and downed the last of it, but he didn’t move to stop him. 

“You’ll kill yourself that way you know,” Sam warned. Dean chuckled and lifted the bottle higher in a cheering sort of fashion. 

“Hey, at least there might be adventure in the next world.” 

—

Jack sat up suddenly, a strange vibrant pulling at his soul. 

He left his bedroom, walking into the bunker library. 

“Guys?” Jack saw Sam and Dean. Sam was standing near one of the walls, while Dean sat at the table, open laptop in front of him, and looking like he’d been hit with a truck. 

They both looked up at him. 

“I feel something…” He didn’t know how to describe it. “…Weird.”

Dean huffed. “Me too kid. I need an aspirin.” 

“No,” Jack tried to explain. “It’s like… I sense a presence.” 

Sam and Dean looked up, their full attention directed at Jack now. 

“There’s something out there besides us.”

“What are you sensing? Like, people?” Sam asked, a slight tremble in his voice, almost daring not to hope. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Wait a minute, how are you sensing anything? I thought you were powered down.” Dean closed his computer, posing a reasonable question.

“I’m not sure. I just know that it’s out there. I can feel it.” 

—

The Impala rolled down the road, passing miles of empty fields and barren highways. 

They took the ride silently, only Jack speaking up once in a while to give occasional directions, based on where his soul was telling him to go. 

Coming up on an abandoned gas station, they decided to stop, the Impala needing gas, and Dean himself needing to use a toilet. 

On his way to opening the men’s door, Dean stopped when he heard a quiet whine beside him. He turned and looked down. 

There, sitting under a large wooden pallet, was a dog. Medium sized, blond and shaggy, it looked up at Dean with big brown eyes, whining and looking like it hadn’t seen anybody in days, which it probably hadn’t. 

“Woah, woah, woah, look at you!” Dean said, kneeling next to the dog, his heart completely melting at this tiny bit of joy. 

“Hey! Wow.” Dean reached out and pet the dog’s head. It nuzzled into his hand licking it, appreciating the attention. “How did Chuck miss you!” Dean whispered to the dog. 

It was like every worry had suddenly left him, all that mattered was that he could take care of this dog, a last hope that they weren’t the only ones left. 

“Who’da thought finding a dog would feel like a miracle.” He remarked to himself. Miracle, how appropriate. “Come on, Miracle.” He said, beckoning the dog with its new name. “Come here.”

He lifted the dog into his arms.

“Sammy!” He called. Sam was over by the gas pump, finishing up filling the Impala. “Check it out!”

Sam rose, a mild look of confusion on his face. 

“You found a dog??” 

“Yeah! I guess Chuck didn’t get everything.” Dean said, pure excitement in his voice. “I mean maybe there’s people he missed, you know!” 

Sam looked about, a little bewildered. 

“Look either way.” Dean rubbed the dog's head, “This guy’s coming with us!” 

“You’re gonna let a dog sit in the impala?” Sam looked skeptical, the ‘No dogs in the impala’ rule Dean had placed a few years ago still fresh in his mind. 

“Relax, I’m not giving him shotgun… Unless you’re cool with that.” 

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna go get Jack.” 

He passed Dean as Dean turned and put Miracle in the car. 

“Don’t worry, he’ll warm up to you.” He opened the back door with one hand. “Maybe I’ll let you sleep in his room.” Dean laughed quietly and placed the dog in the back seat, rubbing his head. 

“Good boy! Believe it or not, you’re the best thing that's happened to us in the past few days.” 

He gave Miracle one last pet, staring at the dog with affection. 

Dean’s stomach dropped. 

The dog dissolved into a black, sparkling, puff of dusty smoke. He was gone. 

Miracle was gone. 

Dean looked around, horror in his expression.

Standing in the far field ahead of him was Chuck. 

A hot red anger boiled inside of Dean, but just smiled smugly, and gave a little finger wave before promptly disappearing. 

A feeling of defeat settled in Dean’s stomach once again. 

—

Jack walked out of the gas station convenience store. He hadn’t really been looking for anything, just sort of… wandering. 

He came upon a set of roadside plants growing out of the concrete. 

Jack stared at them, not really thinking of anything. All of a sudden the plants crackled, turning brown and dead, withering into nothing. 

Jack gasped. This had happened before, back at the safe house they’d made before everyone…. 

Jack looked around and realized with a start that every bit of plant life within a five foot radius was completely dead. 

What was happening? 

“Jack!” Sam called and Jack turned around. “It's time to go.” Sam pointed over his shoulder at the Impala. 

Jack nodded, signaling that he was coming. He stepped over the dead plants around him, a new sense of worry creeping up. 

But he would tell Sam and Dean later. There were bigger things to worry about and they needed to find whoever was out there first. 

—

“Unbelievable.”

The night had fallen. 

Jack sat in the back of the car, asleep, while Sam and Dean groused about Chuck in the front. 

“Can’t even save a freaking dog.” Dean snarled. 

Sam looked down, the feeling of misery radiating off him. 

“Well, maybe that's the point.” He said quietly. Dean glanced at him but didn’t say anything, the same thought having crossed his mind. 

“There’s no one to save… It's just us.” 

Thunder crashed as the Impala rolled up slowly to a large church. The stone walls towered high above them and the large stained glass windows made it give off an eerie glowing light. 

“You sure about this Jack? Whatever you’re picking up on is in there?” Sam asked, looking up at the tall building. 

“It's in there or very nearby.” He said, looking around at the place. 

“Guys,” Worry started to creep in again. “I have no idea what we're walking into.”

They stepped up to the church, entering the large wooden doors. 

Inside were rows of hard wooden pews. Candles were lit, and a large crucifix hung above the door. 

They slowly walked down the aisles, carefully looking all around, but it didn’t seem like anyone was there. 

Until they got to the last few pews. 

Religious books of all kinds were open and strewn about the seats. There was a large one sitting on top of the podium at the front of the room. Its pages were torn and slightly disheveled as if someone had gone through it at a frantic pace. 

Someone had been looking for something. 

Lightning flashed again, illuminating the sculpted faces of saints and angels around the room. 

“So…” 

Sam, Dean, and Jack whirled around at the sound of a new voice. 

Standing behind them was Michael, still wearing the face of their half brother Adam. 

“You survived.” He said, his tone rather melancholy. 

“Michael?” Sam asked, just to confirm it was him. 

Michael nodded slightly, but gave no indication other than that. 

Thunder boomed overhead, the lightning flashing from the stained glass windows. 

“When the rapture began I took refuge here, it is Saint Michael’s, you may have noticed.” Michael shot a subtle glare at one of the angel statues, no doubt supposed to depict his own image. 

“Are you hiding out from your dad?” Dean said, a hint of mockery in his voice. 

“I’m sure he’s aware I took your side against him.” He started walking towards them down the aisle. “I’ve avoided using any powers that might attract his attention.”

“And Adam?” Sam asked. 

Michael faltered, a look of pure bitter misery crossing his features. 

“Gone. Exterminated by my father… like everyone else.” 

“Poor bastard never caught a break.” Dean bowed his head in remorse. 

Michael looked at him. “How did the three of you manage?”

“Apparently, your old man has a sense of humor.” Dean said with a scoff, “He thought it’d be hilarious to watch the three of us on an empty planet.” 

Michael hummed in response. 

“So what are you uh… doing some reading?” Sam said, staring at all the pilled books. 

Michael paused. “I never spent much time on Earth. I was curious about the reception of God and Heaven.”

“And?” Dean prompted Michael to continue. 

“Amazingly, the believers loved him. They have for thousands of years.” Michael chuckled slightly. “I guess my efforts were more effective than I’d hoped.”

Thunder crashed. 

“You’re…. efforts?” Sam said, a bit confused. 

“When God left heaven I was certain of his return. So I made sure all the angels and prophets burnished his image on Earth.” He looked around at every saint, angel, and holy almighty idol placed around the church. “The all-knowing, all-seeing, all-caring God.” 

“Daddy’s boy.” Dean smirked.

Michael smiled. “And you would know, would you not?” 

The smirk disappeared from Dean’s face. 

“And now?” Jack said from beside Sam. Michael looked, perhaps noticing him for the first time. “After seeing what Chuck’s done?” 

“We reached out to you.” Dean growled, “You ignored us.” 

“That was then.” Something akin to rage stood in Michael’s features. “This is now.”

He looked between the three of them. “Tell me what you need me to do.” 

——

Sam walked along the halls of the bunker, in his arms the death book of God himself. 

He approached the map table, book in hand and placed it with a thump on the table. 

“Alright Michael. Here’s the book we’ve been telling you about.” Sam said.

Michael circled around the table to get a better look. “That's one of Death’s books.”

“Yeah, but this one, is about God,” Dean pointed as if to emphasize. “And how to kill him.” 

“As far as we know only Death can open it,” Sam shrugged. “But um… we’re hoping uhh.. maybe you can too?” 

Michael looked at all of them around the table, before gazing down at the book. His eyes shined with angelic grace, and he reached a hand forward, trying to compel the book’s cover to open. 

His hand shook with the effort. As his eyes glowed brighter, the cover of the book began to light up as well. There was a slight whine in the air as the grace worked to open the book. 

But after about a minute of struggling, Michael relented. The book ceased its glow, unopened. 

Michael breathed hard. “I’m sorry.” He spoke. 

Sam and Dean groaned, a feeling of failure settling over them once again. 

——

The group dispersed to their various corners of the bunker. Sam and Dean followed each other to the kitchen, taking a seat against the wall. 

“So where does this leave us…” Sam spoke. “We need that book open and we’re out of options.” 

“Where’s it leave us?” Dean said, despairing at their hopeless situation. “Pretty freaking screwed. Chuck’s gonna come down hard on us, I know it.” 

They sat in silence for a moment. 

“Would it have been better had we done what we were told?” Sam absentmindedly asked. 

“Well that would mean either or both of us dead, Jack’d be probably dead too. Cas would…. Cas would probably still be alive….”

Sam sighed. “I don’t think it would have mattered. Honestly, they’d probably all be dead anyways just cause Chuck likes to screw with us for ‘plot convenience’ or whatever.” 

“Do we have any other ideas to try and fix this?” Dean asked. 

Sam shook his head, slumping. “If Eileen were here, she could probably come up with something.” Sam said quietly. 

Dean shrugged. “It might be more helpful to have Cas, with his grace powers and all.” 

Sam looked at Dean. “So what, Eileen doesn’t matter?” 

“No,” Dean looked affronted. That was not what he meant to imply. “I’m just saying, if Cas were here, he could use resources from heaven and find magic things to help us. Eileen is just human like the rest of us and she’d probably end up being in more danger than where she is now.” 

Sam rose, looking hurt and angry. “How could you SAY THAT? I LOST THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!”

Dean rose to meet him. “YEAH? WELL I LOST CAS!” Sam gave an irritated grunt in response. 

“That’s different...” 

Dean growled. “No Sam, it's really not.”

Sam stared at Dean, a surprised silence hanging over them. 

“What's that supposed to mean?” 

“SAM, DEAN? THERE’S SOMETHING I NEED TO SHOW YOU.” Jack’s voice called from up the bunker hall. 

—

The brothers found Jack standing at the map table holding a group of potted plants. Some looked like they'd been bought but most of them were just patches of grass, dug up and put into mugs. 

“What is this?” Dean asked upon entering. 

Sam pointed confusedly at a few of the potted plants. “Are those-”

“Yes, they’re from your room.” Jack interrupted. He placed the plants on the table, and as he did, Sam noticed a few of them were completely brown and dead. 

Jack looked down the room to Michael, who was sitting at a library table and beckoned him over. 

Michael approached cautiously. 

“Ok,” Jack began. “This started happening a bit ago, but at the time I didn’t tell you guys cause we were so busy with everything else but… well… anyways…” Jack grabbed a plant and placed it in front of him. 

He reached out to the plant mug, not powerfully, but slow, careful. 

In a matter of seconds, the grass in the cup before him began to shrivel up. It turned a dry brown color, withered and died. 

Jack looked up and everyone around the table had a look of pure unsettled shock.

“What the hell?” Dean said, glancing between Jack and the plant. 

“I don’t know why my powers are doing this, plants just start dying around me and… what do I do?” Jack pleaded, looking down at his hands with worry. 

“It’s ok Jack.” Sam stepped towards the table, and towards Jack. “We’ll figure this out.” 

Michael was staring hard at the dead plant, something in his mind being to click. 

“Can you do that again?” He asked. Jack looked at him and nodded slowly. 

Jack placed another plant in front him and did the same thing. The plant shriveled up. 

Michael looked between Jack and the dead plant. “What happened to you?”

Jack stared in confusion. “I’m sorry?” 

“This kind of power doesn’t come easy. And yes, I see that you’re a nephilim,” Jack shifted uncomfortably. “But something must have happened to you to make your powers act this way.” 

“Well…” Jack thought, racking his brain for anything that would apply. “I exploded in the Empty about a week ago.”

Michael blinked. “You exploded in the Empty?” Jack nodded. 

“You exploded in the Empty…” he repeated, “You exploded…. Oh.” 

“What is it?” Dean and Sam looked at Michael expectantly. 

“I have an idea.” 

— 

“Alright,” Sam said, sitting in the library and tapping God’s death book. “We need this book open for this plan right?”

Dean glanced up from his own studies. “Uh, yeah?” 

“Why don’t we just use a reaper to open the book?”

Dean gave Sam a look. “Dude, a reaper can’t open the book, only Death can.” 

“Yeah, but if you kill a reaper you get Death. So…” 

Michael and Jack also sat at the table, taking a new interest in Sam’s proposal. 

“Oh come on, that would never work. Besides where would we find a reaper?”

“I could find a reaper.” Michael interjected. 

“No. Wait hold on. Do we seriously want to release another Death in the world?” Dean gave looks around the table. “Considering what happened last time, Deaths have a habit of screwing us over.” 

Michael thought. “We could… simply destroy it afterwards.” 

Dean snapped and pointed at him. “That could work.” 

Michael rose. “I’ll go retrieve one right now.” 

Jack frowned. “Wait… won’t God be alerted by your pow-…” With a subtle flapping sound, Michael disappeared. “…ers.” 

Dean shrugged. “Too late.” 

They only had to wait a few minutes when Michael popped back into the room holding what looked like a woman, bound and gagged. 

“Is that the reaper?” Sam said standing up. 

Michael nodded. “We should get started.” With a snap of his finders he summoned an angel blade to his hands, reached around and stabbed the reaper in the stomach. 

The reaper shrieked as the blade went through it, and Sam, Dean, and Jack all winced in response. 

The reaper fell from Michael’s arms, dead on the floor.

“Is it… will it work?” Jack spoke cautiously. 

Michale calmly looked at the reaper and held up a hand. 

“Just wait a moment.” 

They all stood silently, staring at the dead reaper, waiting. 

Then the reaper gasped. She opened her eyes and looked down at herself, standing up and breaking her bonds. 

She looked down at her hands, and a large curved scythe appeared in her grip. It looked similar to Billie’s, but it was longer, with a wooden handle, and a more rustic appearance. A ring sat on her finger. 

“So…. I’m the new Death…” She said, looking up and down her scythe. “Call me Betty.” She gazed around at all of them. “Now where’s the book? I assume that's what you made me Death for.” 

Michael looked at her warily, still holding the angel blade. “Sam, hand her the book.” He said. 

Sam reached across the table, sliding the book towards the new Death. She reached out and took the book in one hand. 

The cover glowed as she set the scythe against the table, opening the cover, and leafing through the pages. Her eyes skimmed the paper at a rapid pace, taking in the information with great speed. She looked up after a moment, her expression changed. 

Dean stepped forward. “Have got it?” 

“It’s in here.” She said quietly. “All that you want. I know how God ends.”

“You're sure?” Sam asked, just checking. 

She rolled her eyes. “Of course I’m sure, I’m Death.” 

“You’ve only been Death for an hour.” Dean grumbled. 

Betty narrowed her eyes at him, but she reopened the book. Dean and Michael shared a brief look, and Michael moved unnoticeably closer to Death’s new scythe. 

Betty began reading. “Behold, In the end, there is an ending of he who created the beginning. And thus it will be-“ 

Suddenly, Betty disappeared in a puff of black smoke and dust. 

Everyone looked at Michael. 

“MICHAEL, WHAT THE HELL SHE WASN’T FINISHED!” Dean roared. But Michael looked as confused and alarmed as they were. 

“That wasn’t-…” He started to say. “I didn’t-“ But in another blink he was gone. 

“Okay, where did he go?” Dean cursed. 

Jack shot up, back ramrod straight. “I KNOW WHERE HE IS!” 

“We have no time to lose, lets go!!” Sam said. He rounded the table, grabbing his discarded coat off a chair and running full pelt toward the bunker garage, Dean and Jack right behind him. 

—

Michael blinked at the sudden change. The sun was bright in the sky, and it took him a few moments to get used to it and notice the trees around him. 

He was standing on a beach. There were hills in the distance, and the sea sparkled as wind blew through the many trees behind him. It was beautiful. 

Then He stood there. 

God. Chuck. 

As soon as Michael saw him he was filled with a great, red, boiling, anger … and a tiny bit of fear. 

Chuck smiled, but the expression contained no amount of warmth. 

“Hey, Michael!” 

“God.” 

“So,” Chuck clasped his hands together. “Why are you helping Sam and Dean? I mean picking a losing side, that’s a pretty idiotic move.” 

Michael glared at Chuck. “I believe they can win.”

“Against me?” Chuck laughed. “Come on I’m- I’m God.” He took a step forward. 

“Why you gotta betray me, Michael? For them?” 

“YOU LEFT ME!” Michael yelled. Chuck staggered back, a little stunned. 

“YOU. LEFT. ME. IN THE CAGE. WHEN YOU COULD’VE DONE SOMETHING ABOUT IT.” 

Everything was pouring out. He couldn’t stop it.

“I LOVED YOU. I DID EVERYTHING FOR YOU AND FOR WHAT? SO YOU COULD THROW ME AWAY? SO I COULD BE CONVENIENT COLLATERAL FOR YOUR SCREWED UP NARRATIVE? I WAS DEVOTED! I WAS YOUR SON!” Hot angry tears streamed down his face. “BUT YOU DON’T EVEN CARE! YOU NEVER HAVE. I WAS TRAPPED, IN THE CAGE, FOR YEARS WITH NO ONE BUT ADAM AND NOW YOU TOOK HIM AWAY TOO!” 

Chuck scoffed. “So what, this is about your human pet now?” 

“SCREW YOU! Screw. You. I really-… I really cared about something for once and you stole that. So maybe it is about Adam, I honestly have no idea. But I am siding with them because you? You ruined the world.” 

Coming up the road behind him, Michael heard the subtle rumble of the Impala engine. The car doors opened and he could hear the crunch of gravel underfoot.

But they were too late. Michael had finally broken. 

He glared at Chuck, pure fury in his eyes. 

“I hate you.” He spat. 

Chuck looked at him and nodded. “Hmm. Glad that’s over.” 

Chuck snapped. 

Sam, Dean, and Jack rolled up just in time to see white, shining, lines ripple over Michael’s body. 

He screamed, the energy flowing through him, creating bright, white, burn marks of power tearing through his face, his soul, his vessel. 

There was a loud pop as Michael burst, creating a surge of energy around them, bouncing off the air and the waves ahead of them. 

Sam, Dean, and Jack approached, Jack carrying Chuck’s death book in his arms. 

“CHUCK, YOU ASS!” Dean shouted. Chuck rolled his eyes. 

“Ah, and now back to you guys.” He swished his hand, flinging Jack off to the side. With a yelp, he dropped the book and hit a tree a loud thunk. 

With another swish he sent Sam and Dean hurling towards the beach. They crashed into the sand and logs, feeling the wind getting knocked out of them. 

“You know,” He said, slowly walking towards them. “Eternal suffering sounds good on paper but as a viewing experience it's just kind of…. Eh.” He stopped. “So, we’re done. I’m canceling your show.”

Sam and Dean got up, brushing the sand off their jeans. 

“Alright.” Sam faced Chuck. “Well… One for the road.” He took a swing, smacking Chuck hard in the jaw. 

Chuck chuckled. “Cute.” 

He flung out his hands. Sam and Dean collapsed to their knees, groaning with pain as it felt like their insides were being crushed. 

They gasped as Chuck let up. He raised his hand, ready to snap. 

“Eh, what the heck.” He said, wringing out his fingers. “I can get my hands dirty.” 

With a large fist he threw a heavy swing at Sam, hitting his face. Dean tried to rush at Chuck, but Chuck smacked Dean with the back of his hand. He gripped the collar of Dean’s coat, head-butting him and tossing him backwards. 

Sam got up and made to punch Chuck, but Chuck hit him in the throat and kicked him in the crotch. 

Dean rose with a now bloody face, trying to hit Chuck. Chuck just pushed him away, beating him back down. He kicked Dean in the side, then turned and sent his foot straight into Sam’s nose. 

“Fellas, give it up now.” He told them. 

But Dean rose with new vigor. Again he aimed to punch Chuck, but Chuck caught his arm. Dean screamed as the bone broke. Chuck sent a kick into Sam’s side. He lifted Sam by his coat, and pulling his arm back, he heard the shoulder crack. Dean cried out as Chuck stomped on his leg, the bone shattering. Blood streamed down their faces, and they coughed. 

“Come on guys…” Chuck slowly walked around them. “Just stay down.” 

But they lifted themselves up. Dean stood, facing Chuck, and Chuck just punched him back down again. He hit them, over and over and over again. 

“That’s enough guys.” But they kept getting back up, “Guys, come on.” 

He hit them, again and again and again. Blood stained their clothes and their faces, matting in their hair. 

Chuck held out his hands. “Just stay down.” But they wouldn’t stop. They just kept coming, and he just kept hitting, but they would get right back up for him to hit back down all over again. 

Sam and Dean lay there, face in the sand, spitting blood from their teeth.

“That’s enough guys.” Chuck warned. But they pushed themselves to their knees. “Guys, come on, that’s enough, I said that's enough!” 

Sam crawled over to Dean, grabbing his arm and lifting themselves up, together. 

They stood and faced Chuck, laughing. 

“Why are you smiling?” Chuck said, the fear apparent in his voice. 

“Because,” Sam began to say, breathless. “You lose.” They laughed again, and glanced beyond Chuck. 

Chuck, terror in his expression, turned around. 

There stood Jack, looking at Chuck, rage in his eyes. Chuck could sense it, the large, terrifying waves of power bleeding from the boy. 

“Hey Jack,” Chuck took cautious steps towards him, making his way across the dirt and gravel. 

Jack stood there, unmoving. Chuck stopped, threw up a hand and snapped. Nothing happened. Chuck tried again, he snapped. Jack didn’t even flinch. He just stared at Chuck, a new resolve in his face. He began to step closer to Chuck. 

Chuck snapped again, movements getting panicked and desperate as Jack grew closer. He gasped. 

Jack’s eyes glowed a bright brilliant gold and he threw up his hands, placing either one on the side of Chuck’s head. 

Chuck wheezed and choked, the golden lines burst from Jack’s eyes, trailing down his face, up his arms and into Chuck’s head. The gold flashed, momentarily getting brighter, then with a final surge of power Jack tossed Chuck to the side. 

Chuck hit the dirt with a thump. 

Jack looked down at Chuck, then back up at Sam and Dean, still bloody and holding each other.

His veins still glowing with power, Jack snapped, and Sam and Dean looked down at themselves, blood gone, injuries healed. 

Jack’s glow faded as Sam and Dean came forward. Sam walked up to where the death book had been thrown from Jack’s hands and picked it up. 

“What-,” Chuck coughed, spitting dirt from his mouth, “What did you do?” 

Dean stood over Chuck, his shadow blocking the sun. “We won.” 

“So this is how it ends.” Chuck wheezed, “My book.” 

“See for yourself.” Sam dropped the book, cover open, in front of Chuck. 

Chuck stared in confused horror. The pages were blank, nothing written. Chuck reached out, grabbing the pages and turning them over, flipping through them in a desperate attempt to find something, anything. 

“There’s nothing there.” Chuck’s voice quivered at the edge of being unnerved. 

“Oh there is.” Sam said. “But only Death can read it.” 

“But that doesn’t matter.” Dean smiled at Chuck, savoring their defeat of him. “We had to come up with a plan B and that wasn’t too hard, as soon as we learned that Jack, when he exploded in the Empty, became a power vacuum. Now all we needed to do was get Jack to you. We knew you’d want your death book, so we came up with a plan, to bait you.”

“Michael would grab a reaper, alerting you to our presence,” Sam continued. “You’d take out the reaper, and take Michael with you. And then it was easy, cause all we had to do was follow Jack’s nose back to you.” 

“Now Jack, because of all that prep work to turn him into a cosmic bomb, was sucking in all this power,” Dean gestured at Jack while explaining. “First from plants, but then he would get residual energy whenever Michael used his powers. And when you killed the reaper, well, that was a whole entire hit from you. Now all Michael needed to do was stall, wait for us to get here, and we arrived just in time to see you destroy your own son, charging Jack right up. And when we took the hits from you beating the crap out of us, Jack was taking in all that power. God's power. Jack absorbed it all.”

“It made Jack unstoppable. All of it needed to beat you.” 

Sam and Dean looked down at Chuck, who was taking it all in as he realized he had walked right into their plan, their trap. He laughed. 

“See this… this- this is why you’re my favorites.” He looked up at them. 

“You know for the first time I have no idea what happens next. Is this where you kill me? I mean, I could never think of an ending where I lose. But this… After everything that I’ve done for you… To die at the hands of Sam Winchester.” He looked up at Sam. “Of Dean Winchester.” He looked at Dean. “The ultimate killer…” He laughed again. “It's kind of glorious.” 

Dean shook his head. “Sorry Chuck.” 

Chuck whimpered, and cowered on the ground. But Sam and Dean just walked right past him followed by Jack. 

Chuck looked up, confused. “What?” 

Dean turned. “See, that’s not who I am. That's not who we are.” He gestured towards the rest of them. 

“What kind of an ending is this?!” Chuck cried. 

“His power.” Sam glanced at Jack. “You sure it won’t come back?” 

Jack turned to Chuck, staring him down. “It's not his power anymore.” 

Sam turned back to Chuck. “Then I think it's the ending where you’re just like us. Like all the other humans you forgot about.”

“It's the ending where you grow old, you get sick, and you just die, and no one cares.” Dean said, letting in information sink in. 

“And no one remembers you. You’re just forgotten.”

They turned, leaving him in the dirt. 

“Guys…” Chuck called after them. “Guys wait!” 

Sam, Dean, and Jack all got in the Impala. The engine roared to life and started moving back down the road. 

“Guys wait!” Chuck pulled himself after them. “No- NO WAIT GUYS!” He cried. He lifted himself and tried to run after them. “WAIT! GUYS, WAIT!” 

But he fell. He crawled, dragging himself through the dirt, reaching forward and groveling, dust staining his clothes, dirty, desperate, pitiful tears streaming down his face. He sniveled, running his hands through the dirt. 

“WAIT! WAIT! WAIT PLEASE WAIT! GUYS!” 

But they left him behind, never to be heard from again. 

— 

The Impala rolled slowly into town. Dean parked at the side of the road and they all opened their doors, exiting the vehicle. The streets were still empty, not a human in sight, abandoned cars sitting in the road. 

“Alright kid, you think you can pull this off?” Dean asked. Jack looked at him and slowly nodded. He took a deep breath and lifted his hand. 

With a slight popping sound and a flash of light, there he stood, Michael, looking a little dazed. 

He looked around, then back at Sam and Dean and Jack. 

“So it is finished?” He asked. 

Dean nodded. “Chuck won’t be a problem anymore.” 

Michael smiled. “Good work.” 

Jack turned, reaching out another hand. Flowing from the tips of his fingers was a trail of black smoke. It piled, forming the shape and body of Amara. She looked around, confused and bewildered. 

“What-… What happened.” She looked around at all of them, finally laying eyes on Jack and immediately sensing his power. 

“I was tricked again wasn’t I? By Chuck?” 

“Yeah…”

She looked down. “… I’m sorry.” 

“All is forgiven.” Michael came up beside Amara and put a hand on her shoulder. “I think we’ve all been deceived by God’s charismatic words at some point or another.” 

Amara turned. “Michael,” She faced him. “I haven’t seen you since entrapped me with the mark.”

Michale shifted uncomfortably. “I apologize for that. I was foolish and a blind follower of God’s plan. And now considering I have spent much time in a prison myself… I think it might be in both our best interests to avoid such experiences in the future.” 

Amara nodded, a silent agreement passing between them to forget past mistakes and to make good on their actions in the future. 

Dean turned to Jack. “You ready?” Jack smiled, breathing in. 

It only took a moment. Like turning up the volume of a radio, the sound of people and movement seemed to fade back in. Sam and Deann looked all around them and there they were. People. Real living existing people. 

Michale’s eyes glowed with grace, before he broke into a bright overjoyed expression. 

“Is-… Is Adam back?” Dean asked. Michael nodded, and with another surge of light in the eyes, the expression and posture changed, clearly Adam’s. 

“Hi,” He said, taking in deep happy breaths. 

Something buzzed in Sam’s pocket. He reached in pulling out his phone and looking at it with wide eyes. 

“It’s Donna…” he said to Dean, pointing at the phone. 

“Well, don’t look at me, go ahead and answer it! ” Dean shooed Sam to pick up the call. 

Sam put the phone to his ear. “Donna? Oh my God you’re ok! Yeah we’re fine. We’ve got a lot to tell you…” 

Dean watched the people pass by, basking in the knowledge that they had won. Surrounded by the lives of a billion other humans, reminding him over and over again that they had won. 

Dean smiled as he saw the dog they’d met earlier, Miracle, trotting by and panting happily. 

“Dean!” Dean looked over to see Sam holding up the phone again, beaming, a giant quite possibly ecstatic grin on his face. It was a text from Eileen. Dean grinned back, happy for his brother. 

He turned and looked at Jack. 

“What will you do now?” 

Jack stood there, thinking for a moment. He then turned around facing Adam, who quickly switched back to Michael, and Amara. He reached out his hands. They both looked at Jack and hesitantly took them, not sure what to expect. 

With the golden glow of his eyes, he held onto Michael and Amara’s hands, their eyes began glowing the same color, golden veins traveling up their arms from where Jack touched them. 

After a moment he let go. 

A little dazed, they looked at themselves, feeling something new within them. 

“What happened? What did you do?” Sam asked, confused. 

Jack looked down at his hands. “I distributed some of my power between Michael and Amara. I think it's time we have more than one ruler, and they have my trust that they will be fair and unselfish in their leadership. Michael and Adam being an advocate for angels and humans, while Amara leads as the greater cosmic entity. I can act as sort of a referee, but in the end we can all help to keep each other in check.” Jack smiled. “No single god, just a few of us working together for the good of the world.” 

Sam and Dean nodded. “That’s actually really smart.” Dean said, a sense of pride washed over the brothers. 

“Besides,” Jack continued. “I don’t think I’m ready for that much power yet…”

Michael looked to the sky. “I think it would be good of me to return to Heaven. See what’s become of the angels, and help to rebuild.” He said. 

Amara nodded in agreement. “I should go with you,” 

Jack turned to them. “I would also like to join you, in the rebuilding of Heaven. But I think I should remain here for a bit, maybe live my life a little more, without the constant threat of being killed or… used.” 

Michael laughed. “I believe I share that sentiment. Life may finally be settling down for once.”

This was it.

All was right with the world. The people were back, Michael and Amara began to head off to go fix Heaven but… something was missing. Something painfully apparent. 

“W- wait, Wait!” Dean cried, the smile disappearing from his face. They all turned to him. Dean looked between Michael and Amara. 

“Cas…” He spoke. 

“Can you get him back?” 

— [to be continued] —

**Author's Note:**

> Again yes, I will also being doing a rewrite of 15x20, but the thing about 15x20 is aside from moments with Miracle the dog, I didn't really like anything in it. SO I will be rewriting the entirety of 15x20 according to what I believe would follow after what's written here. Basically, expect there to be a part two of this.


End file.
